


let's be sinners (to be saints)

by wisdom_walks_alone



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Super Sons (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: @ dc meet me in the pit, Character Study, Damian Wayne Feels, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Damian Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Damian Wayne is Robin, Damian Wayne-centric, Hurt Damian Wayne, Hurt/Comfort, Jon Kent is Superboy, Let him heal, M/M, damian went to hell and im mad about it, he's such a good boy leave him alone, why does he have so many names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:14:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24814396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisdom_walks_alone/pseuds/wisdom_walks_alone
Summary: Damian Wayne is a sinner in a world full of saints. That is a fact that is abundantly clear, and Damian is privy never to forget it.He was brought into this world as a weapon, a tool to use against the world, and that is something he will never escape.“You were made to conquer the world,” his mother used to say. But the world was not his to conquer. He knows that now. He knows that fact so well it hurts.
Relationships: Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne
Comments: 24
Kudos: 246





	let's be sinners (to be saints)

**Author's Note:**

> title from the song [sinners](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TyMal7io41s) by lauren aquilina <3 it's got some good lines for this fic, so give it a listen! and shoutout to my babe [mel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterpiperparker) for betaing, love u lots <33

Damian Wayne is a sinner in a world full of saints. That is a fact that is abundantly clear, and Damian is privy never to forget it.

He was brought into this world as a weapon, a tool to use against the world, and that is something he will never escape.

“You were made to conquer the world,” his mother used to say. But the world was not his to conquer. He knows that now. He knows that fact so well it hurts.

He will never be a hero—not really. He knows this, and he’s come to terms with it. He will never be a Superman or a Green Lantern. At this point he doesn’t even think he’ll be a Batman. And that’s okay, because he could never be a hero anyway.

Because when it boils down to it, Damian Wayne is a weapon and that is all he will ever be. And so he does what a weapon does best.

He fights.

Damian has always been an all or nothing kind of person. And where he comes from, nothing is never an option.

And so he gives it all he’s got, in everything he does. First in his training with the league, then with his father, and then with Grayson. And now? Now he gives his all to the mission.

What else can he do? He saves people. But no amount of lives he saves can wash away the horrors of his past, the pleas for mercy made with a last breath, the lives he’s taken. Though sometimes it is nice to pretend.

So he saves everyone, everyone he can. And even then it doesn’t feel like enough. But that does not stop him from trying.

It doesn’t erase what’s happened, it doesn’t erase what he’s done. But if for every thousand lives he saves it makes up for a fraction of one that he’s taken, then, well, that’s a start.

They say they love him. They say they care for him, his family. And they must; on a base level, Damian knows this is true. They brought him back from Apokalips, didn't they?

But they're afraid of him, he can see it in their eyes. Not of him as an adversary, that he knows, but of what he might do.

They all know what he’s capable of. He’d made sure to make that clear when he first arrived. They say that they know he’s changed, that what happened in the past wasn’t his fault. But everyday he toes the line and he sees it, he can _see_ it, on every one of their faces, that they’re just waiting for him to cross it. And maybe one day he will, again.

He knows what they think. And he knows that they’re right. He’s nothing but a monster.

Every time he wonders what the point is, every time he feels like giving up, Damian has to remind himself of why he’s doing this in the first place. When the world is so dark that it doesn’t seem like there will ever be light, he reminds himself of where he came from.

Damian comes from darkness. And every day he has to beat that darkness back with a stick. He will not let it take him, he will not let it consume him. And he will not let it consume anyone else.

In the end Damian knows that no matter how much good he does, the good will never outweigh the bad. But maybe he can tip the scale.

If Damian is darkness then Jonathan Kent is the sky on a clear, sunny day.

He knows it the second he lays eyes on him, with the sun in his smile and the sky in his eyes, that Jonathan Kent will be a hero. Shaky and unsure of himself, sure, but he’ll get there, Damian knows it. Because Jon is good. Jon is a hero.

Damian looks at Jon and he sees everything he could never be.

Damian knows that his version of Robin is different from Grayson’s Robin or Todd’s Robin or even Drake’s Robin. They’ve each brought a part of themselves to the role, always making it their own.

But at the same time, Damian can’t help but be aware of the differences between himself and his brothers. Robin has always been a spirit of joy, a symbol of happiness, a childlike excitement next to Batman’s brutal force. Robin is what keeps him from going off the deep end.

Robin is the light to Batman’s darkness.

Damian can be better. He has to be better. He’s Robin, after all.

Hero or not, sometimes Damian has to take a step back and realize just how _young_ Jon is.

Not that his twelve is that much younger than Damian’s thirteen, but Damian has never been a child.

There was a casualty on a mission, a family found dead in their home. What was left of it, anyway. They didn’t have time to count their losses, though, because the big bad was already on their way to their next stop. They had to keep moving if they were to prevent what was to come.

But Jon didn't want to leave them.

“Come on, Superboy,” Damian had pleaded. “We don’t have time for this.”

“No!” Jon had screamed, on the verge of tears. “No, we can’t—They’re dead, Damian! They’re dead!”

“No names in the field,” Damian tried to warn, voice a low growl.

“It doesn’t matter!” Jon yelled. “They’re dead, and we didn’t save them! We have to call our dads, Damian. This is bigger than us now. People are dead.”

“This is _our_ mission, Superboy,” Damian reminded him sharply. “We don’t need any help from our fathers.”

“But people are _dead!_ They died and—”

“And so we need to keep moving, to make sure no one else does.” Jon turned his tear-filled gaze back to the broken bodies, but Damian reached out to tilt his gaze back to him. “Don’t look at them. We have to keep going, Superboy. More people will die if we don’t.”

Jon kept his eyes locked on Damian’s, wide and glassy and so, _so_ blue, and Damian stared back through his domino, retracting the lenses so that Jon could see his own eyes. “How can you be so calm about this?” he whispered. Damian broke their eye contact and re-deployed his lenses, turning away and starting to walk.

“I have to be,” he said quietly, not looking back to see if Jon was following him.

Because since the moment he was born, Damian has never been a child.

Damian has been to Hell. And he knows he’ll go there again.

He’s come to terms with that. He knows he’s a bad person, but that’s okay because as long as he’s doing good on Earth then at least he’s being productive.

It’s all he can do, help people, while he’s here. He helps as many as he can before he has to go back. And if he’s careful, that won’t be for a long time.

He doesn’t want to go back there, but he knows it’s inevitable. The good he does now won’t undo what he did then. Once a sinner, always a sinner.

And all sinners go to Hell.

With Jon, Damian feels like he’s finally the kid he never got to be. He’s not an assassin, he’s not a vigilante, he’s just Damian. And Damian rather likes it that way.

It’s nighttime, the two of them having a sleepover at the manor. They played a new video game that Jon had been raving about wanting to try and Damian had bought just to get him to shut up about it. Their banter was easy and they played straight into the night, the world growing dark around them. Damian hasn’t bothered to get up to turn the light on yet, so the only light in the room is the soft glow of the end credits as they scroll across the tv screen.

It was a good game. It was fun. Damian understands why Jon was so looking forward to playing it. They’ll have to go back and see what other endings they can get, but it’s getting late now so that’s something to do tomorrow. Today? It might be early morning by now.

They shouldn’t make a habit of staying up so late, but with their nightly activities it was inevitable. Even so, Damian will be starting high school when summer ends, and his father has made it very clear that school comes first.

Jon starts giggling about something, and Damian finds himself giggling too. “What? What’s so funny?”

Jon looks at him, eyes crinkled in the corners. “Nothing, just—That was a lot of fun.”

Damian returns the smile easily, taking in the happiness in Jon’s face. “Yeah, it was. I’m glad I got to play it with you.”

“I’m glad I was able to convince you to get it.”

Damian rolls his eyes good naturedly. “There is a difference between convincing and _annoying._ ”

“It did the trick, didn’t it?” Jon asks, and Damian hits him with his pillow. Soon they’re rolling around on the bed, pillows as their mighty weapons, trying to reign in their laughter so as to not wake up the rest of the manor. When they settle down again, breathing heavily, Jon looks up at Damian through his lashes.

Then he does something Damian never expects.

He surges forward and kisses Damian, who takes in a sharp breath of surprise before he registers what’s happening. And once he does, he lets him, his eyes fluttering closed for just a moment.

But then he comes to his senses, pulling away and scrambling off the bed in a hurry.

Jon blinks up at him from the bed, confused. “Damian?” he asks, concern etched in his voice.

“This isn’t a good idea,” Damian says in a rush, trying so hard to control his heartbeat because he knows Jon can _hear_ it. “Your parents would have my head for this.”

“What? No they wouldn’t, they’re not homophobic or anything.”

“Not for being gay, Jon, because I’m _me._ ”

“What the hell are you talking about, Damian?”

Damian squeezes his eyes shut, turning away from his best friend. “I’m not a good person, Jon. I’m not good for you.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Jon says, and he means it, because Jon never swears unless he really means it.

“I’m serious, Jon,” Damian insists. “I’m a horrible person. You deserve someone so much better than me.”

“You don't know what you're talking about.”

“I’ve been to Hell, Jon,” Damian hisses. “I’m a bad person. Bad people end up in Hell, that’s how this works. The things I’ve seen, the things I’ve done…”

Suddenly Jon is up off the bed. “But that’s not you! I don’t know what made anyone send you to Hell, but they’re wrong, Damian. You didn’t deserve it, not then, and definitely not now.”

Damian finds himself backed up against his desk, and his hands grip it behind him as it presses into his back. “I don’t want you to get hurt. Everyone I care about gets hurt, it’s a side effect of being around me.”

“It’s a side effect of being a _hero._ ”

Damian looks away again, unable to meet Jon’s eyes. “I’m no hero.”

“You can’t seriously mean that.” Jon is so close Damian can feel his breath on his face, but he doesn’t dare look up. “Damian, you can’t mean that! You're one of the best people I know, Damian, you’re a hero, you’re—you’re _my_ hero.”

Damian finally looks up at that, and Jon holds his gaze. He swipes a thumb across Damian’s cheek, and it’s then that Damian realizes he’s been crying.

“I have looked up to you since the day I met you,” Jon pushed on. “I thought, _‘That_ is what a hero is like. I’m going to be just like Robin.’ You don’t know how amazing you are.”

He takes Damian’s face in his hands, forces him to look him in the eyes. Even in the dark, they’re so, so blue.

“They’re not going to send you to Hell again, Damian, I won’t let them.”

And looking into those blue, blue eyes, Damian believes him.

All the warmth and comfort of the sun lives in Jon’s lips. And if the sun lives in Jon’s lips, then maybe there can be light.

**Author's Note:**

> hello friends and thank you so so so much for reading this fic! i have a lot of damian wayne feels to let out so here are some of those. as always, comments and feedback are always welcome, and feel free to pop over to [tumblr](https://wisdom-walks-alone.tumblr.com/fanfic) to say hi!


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